


Taste My Heart

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: In Dreams [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-01
Updated: 2010-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 09:57:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames thought he forced Ariadne and Arthur into a relationship with him. Ariadne plans to prove that they are very, very interested.</p><p>(Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/109194">All That You Dreamed,</a> which in turn was a sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/107913">Shadows In The Dark</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> For the inception_kink meme [prompt.](http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/7339.html?thread=11762091#t11762091) (Lyrics are the story epigraph.)
> 
> Written for the "abandonment issues" box on my [hc_bingo](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/) card.

__

Passing by, you light up my darkest skies  
You take only seconds to draw me in  
So be mine and your innocence I will consume

Hold your hands up to your eyes again  
Hide from the scary scenes, suppress your fears  
So be mine and your innocence I will consume

Dark shines  
Bringing me down  
Making my heart feel sore  
Because it's good  
\-- Muse, "Dark Shines"

Ariadne had been an innocent when this all started. She had simply been a student with concerns about writing exams on time and getting her financial aid settled before each semester. After the Fischer job, it had become clear that the life of a student wasn't enough for her. She didn't worry about paying her bills anymore, and she didn't think twice about impulse buys in trendy boutiques. After a little over a year in the game, Ariadne felt like a master at breaking the rules of time and space. She knew how that worked, just as well as she knew how Eames and Arthur made her feel. She might have resented Eames' underhanded ploys initially, but there had been something else there she hadn't been able to define. He was tightly controlled in a different way than Arthur was; Arthur had his armor that was difficult to pierce, but Eames kept superficial layers for public consumption. People saw Eames and assumed that was all there was, and most never bothered to delve any further.

Both were lost in their own way, and she served to anchor them together.

It was a delicate balance that they moved through. She had been with Eames alone for about three months, and with both Eames and Arthur for nearly eleven months. Ariadne liked to think that she understood them now. Arthur needed help to unwind and Eames needed help to reel in his excesses. Ariadne could feel it in their kisses, in the manner and location of their caresses. There was a push and pull between the three of them. The one time it faltered was two months ago when Eames fell into a deeper layer of a dream; he still didn't discuss what had happened during his time there. He had been his usual insufferable and cocksure self before it started, and afterward there had been a stark vulnerability that he tried to hide. It still hurt to think about it. In the moments he had started pulling away, Ariadne had realized just how important the both of them were to her. She had watched him closely since then, not entirely sure that he was convinced of her sincerity.

She was going to have to prove it to him, apparently.

She locked the door to the apartment after they returned home from dinner. It was dark outside; they had spent more time than they thought over dinner, and Ariadne had ordered more wine for the table than usual. Eames wasn't much of a wine drinker, preferring hard liquor or beer. He wasn't able to stop himself from having a drink for every one that Arthur had, but hadn't realized that the wine was more potent than he thought it was. Ariadne had been counting on that, and Arthur had simply followed her cue. He sensed that something was up, but as usual he was waiting to see how this would all play out. He didn't seem entirely opposed to a tipsy Eames, even if he had to help carry his weight up the flights of stairs to the apartment.

Ariadne nodded toward the bedroom, and Arthur helped to march Eames there. "Let's get him undressed," Ariadne said, starting to untie his shoes. Arthur merely lofted an eyebrow at her, but followed the direction. "I'm thinking," Ariadne began slowly, "that we need to do something about those thoughts that we'll leave our friend behind."

"He hasn't said anything in a while," Arthur commented. Eames seemed oblivious to the reference, leering at Ariadne when she unbuckled his pants. "Is that necessary?"

She quirked a smile in Arthur's direction. "You of all people should know that not everything is said." He nodded at her in agreement. Their own relationship certainly wouldn't have begun without Eames' prodding because neither said a word to each other about their feelings. "So, I'm thinking a physical demonstration is in order."

"And how would that be different from usual?" Arthur asked, a wicked gleam in his eye. He managed to wrestle Eames into a sitting position to get rid of the shirt he just unbuttoned. "He's all about the physical demonstrations. You know how vocal he gets."

"He has to be on the receiving end, I think." She pushed Eames back against the bed, and he frowned up at her. It seemed as though he was starting to connect the dots. "Usually he takes charge of one of us."

"True," Arthur agreed.

"You're talking about me," Eames accused, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "'Tisn't nice, poppet. I'm in the room."

Ariadne moved to straddle his waist and pushed on his shoulders to have him lie flat on his back. "Eames, shut up and let us fuck you."

She never used profanity, so this shocked him. He stared up at her, brows knit. "But..."

"We're not leaving you," she said firmly. "So you shouldn't worry about it. But since you're still afraid that we'd leave you behind, obviously we have to prove it to you." She leaned across Eames to the nightstand. Her breasts hung in front of his face tantalizingly, and she grasped the lube from the nightstand drawer. She passed it to Arthur with a playful grin. "So keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you different, do you understand?"

"Ari..."

"If you so much as touch either of us without my say-so, the game ends just shy of you coming. And it'll go on that way all night, until you believe me when I say we would _never_ abandon you."

"Are you on with this plan, then?" Eames asked, his voice gravelly as he looked over at Arthur.

He had undressed as Ariadne spoke, and was opening the bottle of lube. "Has she ever had a bad idea yet?" he asked, voice laced with sarcasm. "Stop being a stupid ass, Eames."

Ariadne got off of Eames and slowly started to unbutton her blouse. She felt silly doing a striptease for Eames when he had seen her in all states of dishabille and he had certainly done his share of naughty, dirty things to her. But this was different, because he was following her rules and his eyes were hungry and longing as they raked over her form. She knew she was petite and didn't have the largest breasts, but under his gaze she felt like a porn star. She moved slowly, giving her hips a slight shake as if there was music playing. He was practically salivating, and jumped a bit when Arthur slid a finger inside of him. She got her blouse undone and half turned so that he could see her profile as she shifted her position. She flashed him a coquettish smile over her shoulder and grinned at Arthur afterward. He looked pleased with this plan of hers, a content smile on his face. She tossed her blouse somewhere in the recesses of the room and made short work of her skirt.

Arthur looked at Eames. "You should pay attention to what _I'm_ doing," he said, his voice a possessive growl. He thrust his finger in deeper, making Eames gasp. "I'm the one fucking you right now, bitch. _Pay attention."_

Impressed, Ariadne paused as she took off her bra. Arthur smirked at her and blew a kiss, then added another finger during a thrust into Eames. Ariadne got rid of the bra and panties without further fanfare, already hot from the sight of the two of them on the bed. She knelt beside Eames. "Look but don't touch, love," she said, mimicking his endearment for her. She leaned down to lick at his hardening cock, and he sucked in a breath when the tip of her tongue touched it. She licked him while Arthur worked his fingers in a steady rhythm. She swirled her tongue around the tip, then took him deep into her mouth. Eames groaned and shifted his hips up to thrust into her mouth. Ariadne pulled back and sat on her haunches. "Naughty boy, Eames," she said, shaking her finger at him.

"I wasn't touching," he whined. He hissed when Arthur curled his fingers slightly. "Fuck, Arthur."

"That's the idea," Arthur said mildly. "Follow directions, asshole."

Eames hissed and let his eyes slide shut. He didn't think they had it in them, but apparently he had been wrong about that, too. He had himself convinced in that dream state that they would leave him, that he would be left behind and abandoned like so much trash. He had been convinced they were only puppets being pulled on his strings, only dancing to the tune he had set for him. He had to admit, Ariadne taking charge was hot as hell and went far in convincing his wine-soaked mind that it _wasn't_ simply happening at his urging. And shit, Arthur getting in on that kind of action was pushing outside of his comfort zone. He was still in control, but it was a different kind of control now.

Ariadne took up the lube and started to stroke Arthur with it, aware that Eames was watching them. "I want you fuck him hard. I want you to make him scream our names, make him forget how to even _speak._ And then maybe I'll let him lick me."

"God, that's hot," Eames said appreciatively.

Ariadne glanced at him over her shoulder. "Did I ask you?"

He leered at her. "No, but I'd happily eat you out, love."

She smacked his tattooed shoulder. "Watch that mouth, or you don't get any. Then not only do you _not_ come, but you get to watch Arthur give it to me and still not touch."

Arthur snickered and canted his hips toward Ariadne's hand. "Go on, Eames. Be an ass. It'll serve you right."

"Nah, I'll be a good boy for a change," Eames drawled, folding his hands behind his head. "Go on, darling, I'll just--" He choked off the rest of his sentence as Arthur crooked his fingers _just so_ and Eames thought he was about to lose his sight. _"Fuck,"_ he groaned. "I'll shut up, I promise."

Ariadne smirked and leaned down to kiss Eames' stomach. "There you go. See? That wasn't so hard." She dropped soft, feathery kisses along Eames' abs and let go of Arthur's cock. He withdrew his fingers on a backstroke, then shoved his own cock in deeply. Keeping to the same rhythm he set with his fingers, Arthur gripped Eames' hips tight. Ariadne shifted her weight so that her breasts dragged across Eames' chest, causing his breath to hitch. She moved back to her haunches, aware that she was dripping wet and aching. She slid her hand around Eames' erect cock and smiled down at him when it jerked across her palm, still faintly lubed. "You like what you see, Eames?" He nodded, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. "Good answer. You can touch me now."

He unhooked one hand from beneath his head and brought it to her hip. Slowly he dragged it around to her front, then slid a finger against her folds. He had a knowing smile on his face, and Ariadne shifted so that she had a tight grip on his cock with one hand and could reach to tug his hair with her other. "Slowly," she warned him. "It wouldn't do to have the game end too soon, would it?"

Eames kept silent, but nodded, his teeth digging into his pouty bottom lip. Ariadne leaned over to lick it, and Eames took the opportunity to kiss her. Her mouth was hot and open over his, her tongue delving into his mouth as if she owned it. And really, in that moment, she did.

Arthur kept his steady rhythm, and watched as Ariadne broke the sensual kiss to make her way back down. Eames' fingers were buried deep between her thighs, his thumb at her clit. Eames' rhythm faltered slightly when Arthur shifted his angle and hit the prostate. Eames choked on air, curled his fingers inside of Ariadne and fisted the sheets with his other hand. Ariadne sucked harder on him, her nails digging into his bottom. She ran her tongue down the shaft and cupped his balls in one hand. When her jaw ached, she leaned further into him to layer kisses along the insides of his thigh or his balls, and once dropped a kiss onto Arthur's stomach as encouragement. Eames knew what he was doing as he moved his fingers inside her, as he moved his thumb across her clit in steady circles. Ariadne came, her face pressed against Eames' quivering thigh.

She shifted on the bed to grasp Eames by the back of the neck and kiss him. Their tongues tangled, and Eames slid his hand along the small of her back. Arthur thrust harder, rocking into Eames at a steady rate. Eames' other hand grasped the back of Ariadne's neck, keeping her from moving away. Arthur curled his fist around Eames' cock, and his hips jerked at the sensation. Eames groaned and had to pull Ariadne back to speak. "God, too much, I'm going to--"

Arthur thrust harder and tightened his fist as he slid it up and down. "I know," Arthur said with a smirk. "But you've got to wait until Ariadne says you can."

She sat back on her haunches to look at Eames. "Do you believe us, then? That this really is about you? That we _want_ you with us?" Ariadne could almost see the hesitation in his eyes. He _wanted_ to believe her, but some part of him might always be afraid. Some part of him couldn't believe in it. She cupped his face in his hands. "We'll do whatever it takes to make you believe." She brought his hand to cover her left breast, so that he could feel her heart thumping under the heel of his hand. "This is real, Eames."

"I want it," he said, his voice so soft it might have simply been an exhalation.

"Then come for us," Ariadne whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Let go."

Eames' eyes slid shut and he let go, his hands curling into fists and his entire body clenching down. He could hear Ariadne's sigh and Arthur's groan of release. For a moment, he couldn't hear any sounds around him. Instead of automatically assuming he did something awful, he felt at peace. Ariadne settled down on one side of him, her head curled up on his chest. Arthur collapsed in a graceless heap beside him, and there was the feel of a roll of toilet paper from the bedside table being pressed into his hands. "Get yourself cleaned up, will you? I'm not in the mood to lick that off," Arthur told him.

As Eames opened his eyes and chuckled, Ariadne patted his chest. "And don't move too much. I'm comfy where I am."

"You surprise me, love," Eames told her, starting to dab at his stomach. "I don't know where the innocent kitten I debauched went."

"You're a rotten influence, Eames," Ariadne said with a smile. She pinched his nipple playfully. "Admit it, you like being bossed around."

"On occasion. And depends on who's doing the bossing."

"Never thought I'd hear you admit that," Arthur said, propping himself up on one elbow. "So do we need to do this again?"

Eames nearly threw the roll at Arthur's head. "Of course you do. It was bloody hot and I enjoyed it." He grinned at them both unrepentantly. "You'll just have to keep convincing me you want me around."

"I wouldn't want anyone else as our third," Ariadne said, moving to press a kiss against his stubbled cheek.

"Things are fine just as they are. I've been telling you that for months," Arthur replied, settling down into the bed.

Eames didn't doubt his place in this triad, but he wasn't always sure it was a good thing for him to stay. But if they were both still pleased and were willing to continue, then he would ignore the doubts. It went against his usual pattern to stick around; usually he tried to be the one that left first. People always left, after all. No one ever stayed for long.

But maybe, _maybe_ this time he was wrong. This time, he really wanted to be. He felt like he had a place here, and he liked it. He gave them both a kiss. "Sweet dreams, my lovelies," he murmured. Right now, he was living out his dream. He hoped he didn't ever wake up.

 

The End.


End file.
